Sweet Comfort

When I was a tiny girl, my parents entertained missionary guests often. One evening after supper (we were simple country folks and called it that), we moved to the living room for conversation, and as I listened to frightening tales from Africa, my heart began to pound in fear. I slipped onto my father's lap and leaned my head against his chest; he wrapped his arms around me, and all was well even as the conversation continued to flow around me. I was in a safe place.

Early this morning my mind was full of anxious thoughts that would not be stilled, and I remembered that long-ago evening when I found comfort in my father's arms. So I turned in prayer to my heavenly Father and asked for his comfort and peace. Figuratively, I slipped onto his lap, leaned my head against his chest, snuggled into his arms, and asked him to quiet my mind and help me go back to sleep. He did.

We're looking forward to fellowship, learning, and worship with friends at church this morning. This 3-day weekend is deliberately a quiet one for us, and we're thankful.

Blessings for your day,
Carol